The Boy with Nails in His Eyes
put up his aluminum tree.
It looked pretty strange
because he couldn't really see.
The boy shrugged. "I've forgotten it," was all he said. And then, "I guess I wasn't taught well enough."
He took little Suzie to the Junior Prom.
Excitable boy, they all said.
And he raped her and killed her, then he took her home.
Excitable boy, they all said.
He looked at her then, and she could see he wasn't afraid.
"Nothing really dies as long as it's not forgotten," he said.
Boy, you knock on the devil's door and he will head slam you through the wall.
Who are you?" because even now, she couldn't let her questions go. "What are you?"
That face that wasn't a face smiled. It was the most terrible thing she'd ever see, ever. "Magnus" he said. "I'm the end.
Stick Boy liked Match Girl,
he liked her a lot.
He liked her cute figure,
he thought she was hot.
You know, many a man realizes late in life that if when he was a boy he had known what he knows now, instead of being what he is he might be what he won't; but how few boys stop to think that if they knew what they don't know instead of being what they will be, they wouldn't be?
And the boy was right in back of her, his neck thin as a pencil. "My name is Thomas," he said. "Thomas Neary."
She didn't answer.
"The horse's name is Alfred, in case you want to know." He screwed up his face. "Or maybe Fernando."
He was a boy, she was girl. Can I make it any more obvious? He was a punk; she did ballet. What more can I say? He wanted her, she'd never tell secretly she wanted him as well. All of her friends stuck up their nose, they had a problem with his baggy clothes. He was a skater boy. She said: 'see you later, boy'. He wasn't good enough for her. She had a pretty face, but her head was up in space. She needed to come back down to Earth!